I'm ten years old, but I can hear 
A future song that's coming near. 
It hums in trees, it taps in rain, 
It dances softly in my brain. 
 
One day I'll live where music grows— 
Through open windows, out it flows. 
A room of strings, of keys, of drums, 
Where every sound alive becomes. 
 
I'll be a composer, brave and bright, 
Painting with music, day and night. 
Not just notes, but stories too— 
Of stars, of skies, of something new. 
 
Maybe my songs will drift through space, 
In films where rockets race and chase. 
And someone, somewhere, far from me, 
Will hum my tune unknowingly. 
 
At home, my family laughs in tune, 
A dog that dances to my flute. 
On rainy nights, our songs take flight, 
And fill the dark with glowing light. 
 
I'll carry traditions, bold and kind, 
With colors drawn and hearts aligned. 
From festive days to quiet art, 
Each rhythm lives inside my heart. 
 
I'll travel far to hear the Earth— 
Its hidden songs, its quiet worth. 
Then bring them back in melodies 
That echo winds and whisper seas. 
 
So future me, if you can hear, 
Don't lose this song that brought you here. 
Be kind, be brave in all you do— 
And let your music carry you.